


Of Crimson Cheeks, Bambi and Stephen Strange

by montreal



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Sex, Bottom Tony Stark, Dirty Talk, Dom Tony Stark, Exhibitionism, Falling In Love, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Idiots in Love, Light Dom/sub, Loss of Virginity, Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining, No Angst, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Sub Stephen Strange, Teasing, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Top Stephen Strange, Topping from the Bottom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:48:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23959438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/montreal/pseuds/montreal
Summary: Tony Stark has been in love with Stephen for quite a long time, despite the popularity and everything, Tony finds himself a mess when he’s around until Tony accidentally meets him in a party, which leads to various things such as an embarrassing truth or truth moment and an unexpected revelation of his crush, Stephen Strange.In which Stephen is a soft submissive person; wears glasses and a genius that makes him even more hot and attractive, literally a cinnamon roll Tony would die for yet — he's a virgin.(Tony would gladly fix that last thing.)
Relationships: Tony Stark/Stephen Strange
Comments: 20
Kudos: 113





	Of Crimson Cheeks, Bambi and Stephen Strange

**Author's Note:**

  * For [stxrkgazing](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stxrkgazing/gifts).



> This one is specially written for [Sarah.](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stxrkgazing)
> 
> Happy birthday, my love, my everything! I hope you love this one. I love you.

There's no way in hell that Tony ever sees himself, dare he says, falling in love with someone. Perhaps he’s too fast to conclude everything, especially about his feelings. Pepper says that it’s just a tiny crush, an admiration ( _“you know, like the one where we have a crush on our professors,”_ ) which he brushes off because Tony knows it’s way more than that. Tony can feel it thrumming in his body, turning his cheek as red as a tomato when the man’s eyes catch his brown ones. In his most pathetic situation, he finds himself stuttering when the man politely asks him to borrow his notes because apparently, he has accidentally left his glasses at home. Despite him being a famous playboy who almost slept with half of the students in the university, Tony turns out to be as pathetic as those people he has seen on movies when they have a giant crush over someone – that earns a low snicker from Rhodey. 

There is no way that Anthony Edward Stark is in love with Stephen Strange.

Stephen Vincent Strange is a definition of a nerd student.

He wears glasses, though not thick he does wear one, which in his opinion, looks weirdly hot on him, framing his blue-but-also-sometimes-green-and-grey-eyes perfectly behind those lenses. At some times, Stephen wears a contact lens, but once he told Christine, his friend – and Tony was definitely overheard this one, he obviously wasn’t eavesdropping – that contact lenses are complicated and his hands always shake (for some reason that Tony doesn’t even know why) so he decides to only wear it when he wants to. 

Like himself, Stephen is a genius in class. One time Tony peeks at Stephen’s grades on biochemistry and he has lots of A’s on that paper which baffles him. Not that he cannot do that. It’s just if he can choose, Tony will absolutely choose physics or something related to engineering. Well, not only that, but it turns out he’s also a genius at other subjects, aced each one of them as if they’re nothing. One time, he overheard that Stephen has a special ability – as if he’s a superhero – something called photographic memory if he wasn’t wrong; something like being able to memorize everything so quickly and all.

(Tony tries to not get turns on at that.)

While both men are geniuses in their own fields, Stephen isn’t like Tony when it comes to student activity. When Tony loves getting himself in the dirt, body being slammed with the other players, being surrounded by his male friends who keep cheering his name as he scores another one in the game, Stephen loves getting involved in something tidy and less complicated such as the health awareness campaign, becoming the director and the president of the drama club and other activities that Tony cannot name all of them since Stephen almost has a new one every semester.

In short, Stephen Strange is all he wants in a boyfriend – which he never expects that such time will ever come or even exists. Tony wants to take him on a date, wants to make their first encounter become memorable and cheesy (his old-self would cringe hard at this) and fits his vibe.

Which then, becomes a great deal when Tony sees him: his Stephen (okay, that needs a lot of bravery to say that) on a fucking party that he also attends to. There’s _no way_ that Stephen – _his Stephen_ – shows up in some random party that’s held by a jock from the college. When he takes a peek at the man again, he can confirm that it is indeed him. Stephen’s standing near the kitchen counter with one hand holding a red cup and the other is nestled in his jeans’ pocket. From what he sees – and deeply observes – Stephen looks confused and lost, his gaze wandering a lot, searching through the crowd until he sighs and leaves the spot. Tony almost goes into a full-blown panic until he finds Stephen unlocking the door that leads to the back patio, going straight outside to leave the loud noise of the party.

There’s an argument happening within him.

Torn between wanting to stay with his friends for some meaningless talk, and dancing around with strangers that don’t even care about him or try his luck and chase the love of his life. After a lot of thinking – well, not really, since it’s not that difficult, anyway. Tony knows that Stephen definitely and always will be worth more than these parties. It’s more on how Tony prepares his soul and mind and heart to meet Stephen – he chooses to do the first one.

At that, Tony slowly crosses his way through the ocean of humans and approaches the door. It really feels like his limbs are doing everything on their own, because only in a blink, he’s already on the outside with his own red cup on his hand. The February wind is a bit warmer than the last time he remembers, more like a caress of a lover when it touches his skin, welcoming. Leaving him comfortable and wanting more, Tony imagines if Stephen’s touch is as pleasant as the wind. 

“Stark?”

Tony stills. 

His mind feels as if it has stopped working. He definitely forgets that he’s in the same place as Stephen. Only both of them. Alone. The cursing that falls out of his mind goes unsaid, yet he keeps repeating it in his head. There’s no turning back now. This is his chance to get to know Stephen better, to build a relationship – a friendly one first, of course – with him. 

“Strange, uh... hi?” he tries to wave his hand but appears more stiff and awkward that makes him wince internally. That, somehow has earned an amused laugh from Stephen which stays as a small quirk on the corner of his lips. Feeling brave enough, Tony sits next to Stephen, mimicking his position; with his butt on the concrete while his feet are planted on the grass. “What are you doing here? Not enjoying the party?”

There’s a faint color of pink and red on Stephen’s cheeks when he turns to stare at him. “Not really...” Stephen unconsciously fiddles with the edge of the cup that’s weirdly still full of beer, then, proceeds to shrug when Tony doesn’t say anything. “Well, my first time, _ya know,_ ”

Under the dark sky, accompanied by the glimmering stars above them and the warmth of February wind on their skin, Stephen looks enchanting. Tony is captivated by his elegance and beauty. How those high cheekbones look even more prominent from his side profile, coated in a gorgeous crimson blush that goes from his cheeks and nose, down to his neck. The pretty glasz eyes that are framed by glasses with a gold outline, shine bright filled with life and hidden excitement, following each of Tony’s movements, drifting down to his lips, fearless, taking in his features and every mole and faint freckles on his face, then, going back up when he realizes what he’s been doing, follows with a darker shade of crimson coloring his cheeks prettily.

Stephen Strange is a vision.

(And Tony needs to be careful, because he’s falling hard.)

“I see...” Despite already knowing that one fact, Tony nods his head in acknowledgment, tries to play along. Feeling unafraid, Tony adds, “let’s play truth or dare. Or more like, truth or truth?”

“Why?” Stephen sounds amused, though his face looks confused.

“Because I’m bored, and you’re bored,” he answers, shrugging in process. 

Stephen looks at him, weighing the cup on his hand before finally losing interest on the cup and putting it away. There’s a faint smile, the one that is always on his face when he’s feeling entertained, with a hint of shyness behind it. “Okay, Stark.”

“Tony, please,” he suggests, while his inner self is screaming in amazement and somehow panicking at the sudden boldness that waves over him, “we’re about to get to know each other, let’s drop all the formality here.”

“Okay, Tony,” Stephen replies shyly, tasting the name as it rolls on his tongue while Tony has already taken his sweet time to let his mind wander into the dangerous place, gulping in the process when it really does something to his body.

Clearing his throat, Tony changes his position, so his front is now facing Stephen. “You go first,”

“Oh, okay, uh,” he pauses, averting his gaze as he tries to find a perfect question to start their game but finds nothing, so Stephen decides to come up with a simple one. “What’s your worst habit?”

Tony laughs at that. “Really?” His question only earns a playful glare which makes him look like an angry otter – Tony laughs some more before answering, “Okay, uh, I love eating unhealthful foods—wait, is cheeseburger bad?” that receives an _‘of course, duh’_ look from Stephen, “well, that, and uh, when I’m stressed I usually spend my time working over something, well, anything, really… then I would forget to eat for days and take a bath and uh… also, distance myself from any social contact—wow that comes off really sad, isn’t it? Trust me, it’s not,”

“It’s fine,” Stephen assures him, “everyone has their own worst habit, Tony,”

At his name being mentioned, Tony can’t help but feel his chest filled with a bubble of joy and butterflies, his heart jumping involuntarily. “What ‘bout you?”

“Same, but minus the unhealthful foods and the neglect,” Stephen answers, getting a hearty laugh from Tony, “I’ve been distancing myself from social contact since I was a kid. Well, you know… trust issues.”

Knowing more about Stephen like this, has made Tony think that perhaps – just perhaps, because he doesn’t wanna put his hope high – they are the same person. Tony knows about Stephen's lack of friends. The only person he could trust is the brunette girl from the other class, Christine Palmer, who turns out to be as active and smart as Stephen which makes sense because: not much of a people that can keep up with Stephen Strange. 

“Yeah, I know that feeling,” Tony agrees, “Your turn again, _Steph,”_

Stephen looks at him weirdly, silently judging the new nickname but he decides to not comment anything about it. “What’s the scariest dream you’ve ever had?”

The smirk that’s once on his face slowly dissipates. Tony knows he can lie, it’s not like Stephen will know about it anyway. He has been lying since he’s a kid, wearing each lie on his skin like a second skin. But then, if Tony does lie, then everything that comes after that will be pointless. 

Tony wants to be different with Stephen.

He wants to be... different and himself. It’s not a secret anymore that Tony has always been good at faking emotion. It’s much easier like that. He doesn’t like seeing those sympathies – or pity – going on people’s faces and the sorrys that come out but hold nothing, feel more like an obligation rather than something that they say out of their heart. Tony wants to be... open to Stephen. Though all these crush things might end up not like what he expects, at least Tony does one good thing for himself.

“Losing my mom.”

It’s kind of embarrassing when his voice turns out to be unstable, croaking roughly from emotion that reminds him when he just had a screaming match with his dad. But instead of rage and frustration building up in his chest, ready to blow off whenever he wants; it’s the tenderness with a pint of sadness, but not the one that contains sorrow, it’s like... longing. 

(The same one that he wears every time he stares at Stephen. _Longing._ )

Stephen’s eyes soften at his answer, a warm smile appears on his face. “I see,”

Something glinting in those stunning eyes: _Stephen understands._

The softness in his eyes stays and Tony doesn’t know what to feel, or how to react. No one has ever done that before and he’s startled. Not even Rhodey or Pepper, his best friends whom he has known for years. Unlike Stephen, both of his best friends gave him sympathy and comfort, and it did feel great but somehow it’s different when it comes to Stephen. It feels like Stephen knows what kind of feeling and experience that Tony had gone through. The voice in his head demands for more information, orders him to be curious by asking questions, but he brushes it off and pretends that the voice never says anything in the first place. 

“Okay, my turn!” Tony exclaims excitedly. One part in his head is telling him that asking this question might be a risky one, but again, Tony has never been a person with a lot of patience, so, with one peek at Stephen before asking, “So... what’s your top three turn-ons?”

The boy’s eyes widen, then, the blush appears on his cheek. “Straight to the explicit one, I see,” 

“Gotta keep it interesting,” Tony feels his own blush appearing but he refuses to back down.

“Well, uh,” he pauses, eyes wide with embarrassment which almost makes Tony feel bad but he loves seeing Stephen squirming at his question, so he doesn’t regret a thing. “I don’t think I can give all three because I only have one... it’s uh... _manhandling,_ ” Stephen gulps, “like uh—not the one that does it but... t-the one that’s being manhandled...” 

Tony blinks.

His mind feels haywire, going everywhere, and nowhere at the same time.

There’s no lie that he’s baffled. No. Baffled is an understatement. It’s something that consists of being in shock with his hazel eyes widening at the statement ( _what the fuck, Stephen turns out to be fucking kinky,_ ) and excited at the same time. He blames Stephen for the sudden arousal that hits him in the face, making him shift on his seat.

“Oh... that’s—”

“I know! Can we just—” Stephen’s blush is now so deep and red, makes him look like a real cherry. The words that come out of his mouth are tangled into each other. This is the very first time Tony ever sees him stuttering madly, which makes his heart do that excited jumping thing again. “My turn... Uh, so, have you ever cried over a movie?”

“Yeah,” Tony admits, cheeks flaming with mood already shifting back into the shy one, “Bambi...”

Stephen blinks before bursts into laughter, all teeth visible and eyes crinkling. Definitely finds Tony’s answer unexpected and somehow really amusing. “Seriously? The _great_ Tony Stark?”

“What? I’m human, too, you know, I have feelings,” he replies, putting his cup next to him and crossing his arms over his chest, defensive. 

“Sorry, but it’s just... funny,” Stephen answers, still giggling while Tony rolls his eyes at that.

Though it’s really pleasant to see Stephen laughing over him – because of him – he slowly finds it humiliating, but still where he can tolerate. He’s always been a weak man for Stephen but that doesn’t mean that Stephen can make fun of him, so he decides to take revenge. 

“My turn now, what’s your weirdest experience in sex?” Tony dares to ask, despite being a person who’s pretty much already been in such a situation – and also known as the kinkiest person in the university – he can feel himself blushing at the bold question. Not wanting to make the air feels tense and awkward, Tony adds, “by that I mean like, uh... your partner’s kinks? Like uh, bondage? Or... or something like, well, I don’t know, more uh—?”

“No.”

Startled, Tony blinks. 

His mouth opens then closes, completely at loss and unable to read the situation. There’s something in the air, like doubt and uncertainty, and Tony’s panicking on the inside because he's with his _crush_ and he doesn’t know what to do. Tony doesn’t know how to react. “What? No, like... no, you don’t wanna answer that or like no—because I, well, I’m sorry if that question offends you? I just think—”

“No!” Stephen cuts him off, this time startling both of them. There’s a faint blush on his cheeks as their eyes meet which makes him avert his gaze as soon as that happens. “I mean like, no... no, I-I haven’t...” 

“—had a weird experience?”

“No... uh—”

Then, that’s when Tony’s mind comes in a halt.

His throat feels dry when he tries to swallow the gathered-saliva in his mouth. Because there’s no way that that is what Stephen actually means. There’s no way that in age twenty, Stephen Strange has never—

“...had sex?”

Hesitantly, Stephen answers. “Uh, yes...”

Fuck.

Stephen Strange is a virgin.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. _Fuck._

He can feel his cheeks heat up from the new information he has gotten. There’s a tingling feeling in his fingers and bodies as the thoughts in his head’s getting wilder and wilder each second, unleashed. It should be weird that Tony finds that hot, right? The thought of Stephen being inexperienced in bed compared to Tony, a known playboy who has been sleeping with almost every woman and man he met, makes something stirs in him. Like the feeling of being in control.

Tony convinces himself that the beer has somehow affected him in some kind of way – though he knows that he only has two gulps from earlier and Tony needs like six cups to turn him into an unfiltered Tony – because the next thing he says: “wanna change that?”

At first, Stephen looks confused. 

Still trying to wrap his mind around what happens, until he blinks and his mouth parts a bit, stutters the words out of his mouth. “I, uh—what—I—what you mean?”

Tony’s patience is going thin every second. 

He can feel himself losing control bit by bit, hands are itching to grab Stephen’s face and just kiss him right away. And that is exactly what he does. With no further thought troubling his mind, Tony surges forward, capturing Stephen’s lips in his, trapped between his teeth as he makes his move deeper, licking his bottom lip, asking for silent permission. 

“ _That,_ is what I meant,” he mumbles against his lips before looking into Stephen’s eyes, “wanna take this somewhere?” Tony whispers, lips move to nibble the skin on his jaw while his left hand cupping the other side of the jaw and the other hand teasing the hem of his shirt, practically already sitting on Stephen’s lap. “I have an apartment but it’s pretty far away from here, and also... I don’t bring my car,”

“We can—perhaps... we can go to my dorm... It’s nearby and—and I got my keys,”

“Great.” Tony mumbles against his lips, catching Stephen’s bottom lip between his teeth, feeling his mind’s already hazy with the amount of pent-up arousal in him, “I mean, I don’t mind having sex in one of the room here, or like, your car, if you’re... impatient, but I do prefer somewhere more private,”

Stephen gulps at that, his own lust is visible, pooling in those stunning eyes which Tony thinks it looks even more beautiful from this distance. “Yeah, no, I mean, let’s just go to my place. It’s closer and—”

“Uh-huh, stop talking and more fucking, _Steph._ Come on, show me where your car is, baby,”

The walk to the car is hurried and filled with wandering hands and impatient kisses which mostly come from Tony. Stephen doesn’t give any care to those people who might have seen them in such a situation, because all he cares about is how soft and supple Tony’s skin is underneath that thin shirt, especially that one spot under the belly button. A couple of times they stumble and almost fall down to the ground but Stephen -- though he can feel the tough walls of his crumbling apart – brings his body back in track until they’re inside the car. 

Right when Stephen’s about to turn on the engine, Tony crouches with his ass still planted on the passenger seat next to him while his face is hovering over Stephen’s crotch, fingers fumbling with his zipper until they come in contact with his stiff cock, Tony’s warm breath makes him shudders bodily. 

“Tony—I—what are you doing—”

Stephen grunts as Tony holds it in his hand, feeling sensitive already. “I’m gonna suck you off, but you better keep your eyes forward and focus on the road, baby,” 

As he expects, Stephen’s cock has the perfect length and thickness, heavy and hot on his palm. There’s cum beading on the tip, which has Tony licked with no doubt, bitter on his tongue. Stephen almost chokes on his own saliva as he feels Tony swallowing him whole, not stopping any time sooner until the tip of cock’s hitting the back of his throat and that is when he realizes one thing. 

Tony doesn’t have a gag reflex.

That almost makes him unleashes his possessiveness side because all that he can think is how familiar Tony is with these things (how many men and women had he slept with, and was it as much as what the rumor said or was it just for his reputation) and how those people had treated him back then? Did they give him perfect aftercare? Did they shower him with kisses and hugs, too? Did they stay in the bed until morning or did they leave before the sunrise could even peek from her hiding?

His thoughts are being interrupted with a muffled sound of swallowing. He tries to not buck his hips when Tony’s throat constricts around him, giving him the perfect tightness he has been craving. Inhaling sharply when he goes up, follows with one hand wrapping around his length and with another part of Stephen’s wall falling to the ground. It doesn’t take him a long time, because when Tony swallows him again, he can feel his climax approaching the surface right when their car reaches Stephen’s dorm building. Stephen doesn’t even have the time to properly park the car because that’s the time where he finally comes, _hard._

White clouds are appearing behind his eyelids while his mind wanders, trying to remember when was the last time he ever comes this hard. Leaving him tingling and numb with pleasure as he comes back down, blinking away the haze from his eyes. He’s still panting when he takes a glance at Tony, licking his spent-dick one more time before putting it back to its place. When he looks up, their eyes meet and Stephen is torn because despite what the man has done earlier, his dilated brown eyes sparkle with want, lips glistening with saliva and his hair is all messed up: Tony looks like an angel.

“Hope you still up for next round, _champ,”_

Stephen only kisses him, softly this time. 

While the drive back has been intense, consisting of lust accompanied by yanks of hair and grunts of pleasure; the way going to Stephen’s dorm is a blur. Stephen has a difficult time unlocking the door because Tony hasn’t stopped plastering his side, slowly kissing his neck, while his naughty hand is wandering to the bulge on his jeans and it’s hard for Stephen to focus because his hands are shaking and he’s horny and his fucking glasses keeps on slipping down to his nose – perhaps he should’ve listened to Christine and wore his contact lenses instead.

Stephen feels as if he’s about to combust.

With the non-stop kissing and touching and grunting, he feels as if his inside is gonna explode all cute and lovely styles with butterflies and flowers and confetti. Stephen will deal with everything later; with the heartbreak that perhaps coming after this happens because there’s no way in hell that Anthony Edward Stark, his biggest crush since the first semester, likes him the way he has been secretly falling in love and obsessing over him.

Once the door’s open, Tony drags both of them into the room and closes the door with one foot. Stephen takes care of the rest; leading them to his room while Tony’s fumbling with his own shirt, getting it off through his head and then, goes straight to take off his jeans and underwear all in one together in one swift, enough to explain how familiar Tony is with these things. The bed is a mess and Stephen can feel his cheeks heated up but Tony couldn’t care any less, he finds it comfortable with the sheets pooling in the middle of the bed, and the books that are scattered around on the ground – he actually thinks it’s _homey._

Though it looks like Stephen has everything under control, he’s actually panicking inside. His heart has been jumping so loud he can hear it with his ears, along with the blood rushing down to his cock again. Stephen hopes that Tony’s okay with his shaky and sweaty hands. He even fucking stumbles when he’s taking off his underwear – embarrassing. He’s fucking nervous about this.

Stephen’s scared what if he says something wrong to Tony. 

Or does something that he considers as annoying or uncomfortable to him. 

But when he gazes into those brown eyes, all of his concerns disappear. Stephen doesn’t care if this is just a one-time thing and that Tony’s just too drunk and horny at the moment, the next time he wakes up, he doesn’t even remember who he is or everything he has said the night before.

“Lay on the bed,” Tony tugs his hand harshly, almost making him fall face-first to the bed. It’s relieving to know that he’s not the only one who’s impatient here, “I’m gonna ride you,”

The statement almost makes Stephen chokes.

There’s no space for him to argue because the next thing he knows, Tony already switches their position – fuck, perhaps Stephen can cum only from the whole manhandling thing he’s done to him – slowly sitting down, ass meets pelvis. (He still doesn’t know whether he should be grateful or not about spilling his biggest kink to his crush.) Tony grinds his hips down until Stephen’s cock fills up again and nestles in between his ass.

“Condom and lube?” Tony mutters, voice low and eyes drooping when he’s purposefully grinding his hips forward so his own cock is rubbing against Stephen’s abs, which follows with a sigh of pleasure.

Lust in his head, he manages to answer, “top drawer,”

“Top drawer?” Tony can’t help but chuckle at that, not concealing any of a new fact he’s been getting from one night while his hand reaches out to the second drawer, blindly looking for a familiar shape of plastic. “you surely aren’t that shy,”

“No one has ever come into my room before,” Stephen’s eyes follow every move he makes: from when he comes back to sit on top of him, gracefully tears off the condom with his teeth like what he sees in the movie. 

“I must be special then,” he teases, earning a grunt when Tony rolls the condom on. 

_“You are,”_

The brunette’s cheeks are flushing. 

He’s really caught off guard, hasn’t expected such an answer, which makes him think that he will give Stephen a lesson. Experimentally, Tony pumps his already covered-lube hand around Stephen’s cock several times, making him buck his hips in response as Stephen bends both of his knees. Then, within seconds, Tony positions the hot intrusion in his palm over his entrance and sinks down.

Both men moan in bliss, with Stephen’s hands finding Tony’s waist as his new lifeline, and Tony finds Stephen’s chest as his. It’s not even started yet, and Stephen can already feel the need to come, tingling beneath his fingers and curling his toes in pleasure as Tony grinds his hips down experimentally. Every breath and every roll of hips that Tony makes: screams experience in Stephen’s head. Even, every touch of his fingertip on his chest brings pleasure to his body, Stephen thinks it should be illegal to be able to do that.

“Tony,” the man beneath him breathes out, fear of hurting him swimming in his chest. “Have you—prepared, _fuck,_ Tony, is it okay—?”

“It’s fine, Stephen,” Tony replies, tease him by clenching down on his cock which earns a warning grunt from him. “I’ve prepared myself earlier, I’m good,”

With leisure, Tony starts putting up a slow pace, feeling deeply satisfied at the fullness he feels inside of him. The hot drag of Stephen’s cock sends pleasure shooting up his spines, giving him white explosions behind his eyelid from every stroke. While all Stephen can do is pant, breath coming in halt when Tony starts to move again, bounces up and down. He wants to beg, to sob but the words vanish into a thin air as soon as he opens his mouth.

From this angle, Stephen can see him whole: the sweat beading up on his temple trickling down to his chest with such graceful, the expression of his face; mouth half-parted, the reddened cheeks that spread down to his chest, his nipples and his toned-abs which drive him crazy because he wants to touch but for some reason, Stephen can’t find himself doing it, the mess of his hair with the light above him that makes him look like an angel with a halo. 

With no doubt, Tony is truly an angel.

Being sent down to save him, to cherish him, to _break_ him when it’s needed.

(Stephen definitely wants Tony to break him.)

“What you thinkin’, handsome?”

“Nothing,” Stephen grits out another moan. He doesn’t think that he can last much longer with the way Tony rolls and bounces on his dick, keep unbelievably reaching deeper every time, milking his prostate in the process, “you just look... perfect,”

“Careful right there, _Steph,_ gotta wine and dine me first, _fuck—_ ”

“Less talking,” _thrust,_ “more fucking, Anthony,”

The brunette chokes out a moan. “Getting brave, are we?”

Stephen makes a confused noise – Tony thinks, it’s cute and could’ve boop his nose if they aren’t in such situations – when the man on top takes his hands from his hips and holds it above Stephen’s head, not losing any rhythms, and whimpering a quiet “fuck,” under his breath when. They keep their gaze which makes Stephen writhes and quivers at how hot and intense Tony’s gaze is; heavily lidded, lust painted all over those browns. Stephen knows that even without the hands, Tony can keep him down only with a gaze, makes him squirms in his place, face flushes.

Tony kisses him again, harder, punishing. There’s a lot of biting and more tongue involves; Tony bites Stephen’s lower lip as he grinds his hips forward, swallowing the moan right into his mouth greedily at the same time when Stephen gives a desperate jerk of thrust, trying to pound deeper into his tight heat. Then, Tony moves his mouth, trailing his jaw with his tongue, intentionally leaving wet traces on the skin before settling on the sensitive spot below his ear, and gives a teasing nibble on it. Stephen gives a satisfied purr when Tony sinks his teeth on his neck, leaving deep red-purplish mark then, another, and _another._

The grip on Stephen’s hands isn’t loosening up. If anything, it’s even more tighter than before, clutching those lean wrists in Tony’s palms, demanding. With a moan, Tony raises himself up and picks up his pace, having already found the perfect angle that keeps on purposefully hitting his spot, bringing stars behind his eyelids and makes his toes curl in pleasure. Stephen gasps in return, not expecting the sudden deep grind that leaves him squirming.

Tony has always been vocal in bed, wording out each of his thoughts, moaning at every change of angle and drags of Stephen’s cock as he drives himself deeper, feeling how it splits him open. His eyes haven’t strayed away from the sight that’s being presented in front of him. Watching how Stephen pants beneath him while those long boney fingers are planted on his thighs.

“Fuck,”

“Please, I’m—I’m close,”

The plea comes out soft and faint, unlike the grip Stephen has on his own hand, rough and demanding with his blunt nails planting on his palm. He feels the tears pooling on the corner of his eyes, threatening to spill out. While Tony, the man on top of him, takes his precious time though, both of his thighs strain painfully from keeping his position, circling in eight motion at a faster pace, leaving Stephen’s whimpering mess beneath him.

Tony’s own breath stutters when Stephen thrusts his hips upwards. Heat pooling on his lower stomach, beads of precum trickling from the tip of his cock, slick of lube all over Stephen’s crotch. “I’m close, too,” he admits, quickening his pace until it’s just only short and sharp bounces that intentionally exist to make him cum faster.

After a couple of desperate rolls of hips, Tony comes untouched with a cry which then stutters off into a moan as Stephen keeps pounding into his heat until he follows suit not long after that. Tony hasn’t realized that the grips on Stephen’s wrist are so tight that it has left a dark red mark on his unblemished skin, but it feeds his possessive side even more, roaring in his chest as he trails it over with his fingers carefully before bending down to kiss Stephen’s collarbones, and down, down.

Hazy in bliss, Tony can feel himself slipping to the dreamland, eyes now half-lidded while lazily pushing himself off from Stephen’s body. Usually, he isn’t like this, but everything about the weirdly plush dorm bed and the place and the sex and Stephen, makes his inner side sighs in contentment, pleasant with the warmth buzzing in his blood and his mind. At that, Stephen huffs in amusement then proceeds to take off the condom – cringing internally at the stickiness – and throws it in the bin.

When Stephen glances at the man on his bed, he’s already deep in slumber. The peaceful face he has on his face makes Stephen’s inner self preens, but he quickly brushes it off and gives the man a soft kiss on the forehead before going to the bathroom to take a wet towel for him.

Tony doesn’t know when he dozes off, but when he wakes up, there’s a faint brushing over his forehead, feather touch. The sight that greets him is magnificent: Stephen laying on his side, cheeks blush prettily from being caught red-handed for the silent touches. The sheet covers the lower body while the upper is bare and enticing to Tony, there’s a couple of hickeys still apparent on the skin between where his jaw and neck meet; purplish and dominant.

“Uh, hi...” Stephen hesitantly greets, still can’t believe that the brunette is there, sleeping beside him.

“Morning,” he grunts back a reply, finding himself still sleepy, Tony decides to give himself another couple minutes before he deals with the possible heartbreak and rejection. 

“You have big eyes,” the man suddenly speaks up and Tony can only open his eyes – grumbling and wincing at how bright the room is – and blinks at that, confused, while Stephen takes that as his time to continue, “like... Bambi.”

Flushing in embarrassment from the previous memory that’s etched on his brain, Tony huffs a laugh before asking, “is that a compliment?”

“It is! It is... they’re pretty and... _alive,”_

There’s awe in those words, pure amazement.

Tony knows Stephen has his heart in his palm since the first time his eyes landed on him, gleaming when he smiled, huffing afterward at whatever Christine said that time. His heart aches, but it’s a good ache. The one that leaves him tingling with excitement and happiness washes over him like a realization. Tony even manages to let a hearty laugh, shakes his chest as he turns on his side to take a good look at Stephen, putting his weight on his right elbow.

This time Tony decides to let the crimson color his cheeks, unabashed with the fact that Tony Stark’s just blushing over a simple compliment. “Thank you, Stephen.”

Stephen’s inside flutters happily at the smile that Tony has on his face. There’s no doubt that Tony does look good in his bed. He finds it fitting: with bare shoulders peeking underneath the sheets, bed hair and cheek flushes from the warmth of the sun coming inside his room. Tony sighs as he scoots closer and nuzzles back into the pillow, purposefully leaving a brush of a kiss on Stephen’s shoulder as his eyes slowly close. He wants to stay longer, basks in Stephen’s body warmth. With Stephen’s lean arms curling over his waist protectively. The thought is so nice he almost falls asleep again, until a voice speaks up:

“You can leave, if you want—” Stephen starts, while Tony looking up, eyes adjusting to the brightness in the room, “I mean, not to be rude but, uh, you don’t have to stay,” at that, Tony tilts his head, giving him a puzzled look with slight hurt which makes Stephen flinches, “or, don’t! You can stay... if you want,”

“What makes you think that I don’t wanna stay?” Tony manages to ask.

“I mean isn’t that—” he pauses, hesitant, “isn’t that what you usually do?”

Tony sighs at that but doesn’t feel hurt at all because Stephen clearly has shown him that he’s confused but not refusing his company. He can see how Stephen has built himself a wall, just like him; in case everything goes to shit, at least he doesn’t get his hopes high. Tony can picture everything, too, if he’s in Stephen’s position right now. Of course, Stephen thinks that this is a one night stand and not something much more deeper meaning than that. “Well, yes... but,” Tony moves from his spot and straddles Stephen’s lap, their naked crotches meet, “I like being here,”

“What?”

“I like you, Stephen,”

“Like, uh...” Stephen gulps, heart pounding when those browns stare at him with such sincerity and honesty, “like you or _like_ like you—”

“I _like_ like you, Steph,” Tony answers with a huff, feeling more entertained rather than hurt.

That has taken him back, blinking several times before asking, “but... why? I—I mean, I do like you, too, Tony, but why—wait, does Christine ask you to do this? Is she—Fuck, I swear to God—”

“Whoa, hold on, handsome... Why would—? Okay, first of all, no one asked me to do this. I did this because I find you amazingly attractive and hot and you’re also a genius and I think we’d make a great and powerful couple,” Stephen has his lips half-parted and it makes him look so cute Tony almost devours those lips again but decides to hold himself back, “I like you, Stephen,” he caresses the skin beneath his thumb softly, _“a lot,”_

Stephen’s answer doesn’t come right away.

It looks like he’s still wrapping his mind around what just happens, but from the deep blush creeping on his cheekbones, spreading down to his chest, Tony assumes that Stephen does feel the same. Tony loves the fact that all those blushing happens because of him.

“You can have other men or women in the world… like that one in—”

His words are interrupted by Tony’s hand, covering his mouth; a stern look on Tony’s face softens as he lets his hand wander back to Stephen’s jaw. “You’re all I want, Stephen Strange.”

Stephen feels himself melt at those words. Heart’s jumping frantically in his chest as a smile breaks out on his face, followed by a huff, still not believing what has just happened and yet Stephen kisses him anyway. One kiss turns into two, three, hands trailing down, taking back the reminiscence of last night's event.

Unlike before, this time isn’t merely a fuck.

Stephen won’t say it's make-love because they haven’t reached that point, yet.

But there’s an underlying feeling beneath that: the gaze he gives to Stephen is different as he cages Tony down with his arms, kissing away his concerns between his eyebrows before capturing his boyfriend’s – it feels good to be able to say that now – lips, and when Stephen pushes in; again, they’re in bliss, feeling familiar towards the tightness around him, instead of pounding him right away, Stephen takes it gently, slow and intimate.

And when they climax, it brings heaven to them. It feels as if the world solemnly exists only for both of them, neither of them care anymore about how loud and noisy they’ve been because they’re in love. Stephen can stay like this: cuddled up in Tony’s arms, his finger drawing transparent patterns and shapes ( _“I might be sleeping, baby, but the equations keep running inside my brain,”_ ) on his back and Stephen has his eyes closed, breath even, ear to Tony’s chest; beating loud and steady.

“I like you, too, you know,”

“I know,” Tony replies, hand still lazily tracing transparent lines.

“No,” Stephen looks up, meeting Tony’s gaze halfway, “I mean, before all the, you told me that you like me, I already like you,” he explains, which only receives a cute confused frown from Tony, “like, _really_ really like you... I watched every one of your game, it’s sickening, really... to the point where Christine is just fed up about it,” 

An amused huff comes from Tony. “Really?”

“You are literally the reason why I went to that dumb party, Tony,” Stephen raises himself up with his elbow, “I wouldn’t do such things if it weren’t because of you; that... is how much whipped I am for you,”

Tony doesn’t know what to say, so he kisses him instead.

The butterflies in him haven't stopped flying around and he prefers it that way. Giving him warmth like summer day against his skin and sound waves crashing behind him. Or, the smell of brewed coffee filling the room and books scattered carelessly on the floor. (He can picture that clearly, two of them just having each other’s presence.)

It feels as if they’re made for each other. Tony doesn’t care if it’s too fast to say this, to conclude everything; with the bonds between them are thrumming beneath his fingertips, pleasantly numbing his tongue, but he feels safe with Stephen. So, yes, it might be too soon to say this but... he thinks he’s in love with Stephen Strange. Looking at him, Tony drinks up on the view and thinks that the thought isn’t so bad.

Breathless and giddy, Stephen asks, “wanna go again?”

Tony shuts him up with a kiss.


End file.
